Five first kisses Castle and Beckett didn't have
by Jill-in-the-Box
Summary: ...and one they did.  Castle/Beckett, written after 3x07.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).

**Five first kisses Castle and Beckett didn't have... and one they did.**

1.

Josh ends things with Beckett one week before Ryan and Jenny's wedding. For all that he loves trashy medical dramas and the fact that Beckett is now single, Castle still feels awful when he hears the sordid details—something to do with the scrub nurse.

Gina leaves him three days later, with some vague explanation about how it never would have worked out. Unlike the last time, they shake hands and she doesn't slam the door on the way out. He's only half surprised to discover that he's actually kind of relieved to see her go.

Castle and Beckett sit together at the wedding, the chairs reserved for Josh and Gina left empty. She actually says yes when he asks her to dance, doesn't pull away when he puts his hand on her bare back, even rests her chin on his shoulder so that he can smell the cherry scent in her hair.

He holds her hand on the cab ride home and kisses her in her hallway. It's just a quick brush of his lips against hers, but as she closes the door, she gives him a shy little smile and whispers, "Until tomorrow, Castle."

(Ryan ends up asking Castle to be in the wedding party. He spends the whole night sulking on stage, watching Beckett dance with another one of Lanie's many male friends, and wondering exactly what this guy did better than saving puppies and rare medallions and atherosclerotic coronary arteries.)

2.

They go to interview a suspect outside of town. The sun has already set by the time they're making their way back. Beckett's car begins to hiss and sputter. Within five minutes there's smoke coming out of the hood. Beckett pulls over on the side of the road, muttering profanities under her breath.

"And I thought that nasty little spring in my seat was the biggest problem with your car," Castle jokes.

Beckett rolls her eyes, climbs out, and slams the door. Castle follows her out. She's kicking a ridiculously high-heeled shoe against a hubcap.

"If your car could talk, it would be screaming _apples _right now."

She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. "Don't you see we have a problem here, Castle?"

"I don't see any problem," he shrugs. "First, you're not trying to hurt me. Second, I've got granola bars and grape juice boxes. We could have a picnic."

"A picnic."

"It'll be fun," he says, giving her his best pleading look. "And I'll give you the chocolate chip one."

She finally smiles. "I have a mat in the trunk."

Long after the bars and juice are devoured, they stay there, sitting in silence, side by side. Beckett suddenly draws her knees under her chin and wraps her arms around herself, shivering even in her thick overcoat. It's green, he notices, bringing out the color of her eyes.

"Cold?" he says softly. She nods once. He puts an arm around her and draws her toward him. She leans into his side and rests a hand on his knee, just like she did that night by the pool. "Better?" he asks. She nods again.

She doesn't flinch when he kisses her on the forehead. He moves downward, to her nose, her cheek, her chin. He feels her hand leave his knee, only to come to rest at the back of his head, slowly pulling him toward her until their lips finally meet.

Castle decides right then that he likes Beckett's car, nasty little spring and all.

(Beckett's car does break down on a dark road in the middle of nowhere, but she uses her new phone to find their location and look up the nearest service station. The tow truck is there in less than ten minutes.)

3.

It's another nightclub in another seedy part of the city. They don't have enough evidence for a warrant, and they don't know exactly who's working with whom, so the best they can do is sit at the bar and watch the shady characters at the table nearest to the stage.

Beckett's in a low-cut black dress, waves in her hair, and smoky eyeshadow. She orders shot after shot of vodka for them. She doesn't volunteer any information and he doesn't pry for once in his life, but he's fairly certain this clothing and behavior has something to do with Josh.

The victim's husband finally comes through the door holding a suitcase, glancing furtively around him and going straight to the front table. He leaves without the suitcase.

Beckett winks—_winks!—_at him. "Bingo!" she says, a little too loudly, because a couple of people turn to look at them. He holds up a hand for her to high-five, and she misses, then starts to giggle. _Giggle_.

He puts an arm around her waist to steady her as they head outside. As soon as they are, she spins around to face him, puts her hands on his shoulders, and pushes him against the nearest wall.

"Kate, what are you—" he starts, but he's cut off as she covers his mouth with hers. He can taste the alcohol on her tongue and his hands come to rest on her hips and _oh god _he's making out with Kate Beckett in the parking lot of a seedy nightclub and she's enjoying it as much as he is.

Eventually he calls a cab to his place and wraps her in a quilt on his couch because he knows she'll panic if she wakes up in a strange bed with a headache. When she finally stumbles into his kitchen late the next morning, he pours her a glass of water and makes her pancakes.

(Beckett is too by-the-book to drink on the job and too self-respecting to get herself wasted over some sleazebag dumping her. And even if she did, from what Lanie tells him, he'd never be able to know the difference.)

4.

On December 23rd there's a party for all the Homicide cops. When Castle and Beckett return from the food line to her desk, Esposito chuckles and gestures above their heads.

Mistletoe.

Beckett's brow furrows. "Whose idea was _that_?" she demands.

Lanie shoots her an amused look. "Doesn't matter," the medical examiner shrugs, with a sassy smile and a twinkle in her eye. "Just get to it."

"You've got to be kidding me," Beckett mutters.

"Come on, boss," Esposito says. "It's just a tradition."

At that point Ryan starts clapping and chanting, "Beck-_ett!_ Beck-_ett! _Beck-_ett!_" And pretty soon, everyone in the Homicide division is joining in. Beckett blushes slightly—Castle thinks he's the only one who notices her getting flustered—and bites the inside of her lip.

He's about to tell everyone to leave Beckett _alone_ already, that she might be in a relationship or something for all they know (he ignores the little twinge in his chest at that thought), that she doesn't want to be put on public display for their amusement—

Before he can say a word, she grabs him by his red and green snowflake-pattern tie, yanks him toward her, and plants a sloppy peppermint-flavored kiss on his mouth. She doesn't stop there; in fact, she makes quite a show, nibbling on his bottom lip and running her hands through his hair. He doesn't quite know what to do with his own hands hanging at his sides, and settles on hesitantly resting them on Beckett's waist.

Everyone in the room is whistling and clapping and catcalling, but all Castle can hear is Beckett's voice in his head, whispering _you have no idea_.

(They do have a holiday party at the precinct, and Lanie does hang mistletoe from the pipes above Beckett's desk. Beckett avoids that spot the whole time.)

5.

They follow a lead to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the town. Castle sees the movement before Beckett does, and grabs her around the waist and wrestles her to the floor. The gunshot barely misses her head.

Beckett responds at once and her aim is impeccable—she shoots the man in the arm holding the gun, the perp's on his stomach and in handcuffs, and she's called for backup and an ambulance before Castle can even register what's happening.

During the commotion, as the newly arrived officers and the medical staff busy themselves with handling the suspect, Beckett slips outside without anyone but him noticing. He follows, only to find her head down, hands in her coat pockets, pacing back and forth, kicking at little rocks on the sidewalk with the toe of her boot.

"You okay?" he asks.

She shrugs and shakes her head. "I made a mistake. I should have brought backup. If you hadn't been there—" Her voice breaks.

"Everyone makes mistakes," he says. "I tell Alexis that all the time."

"And that," she whimpers, throwing her arms in the air, and he thinks he can see the beginning of tears threatening to fall. "_You _could have died, and Alexis would—" She covers her face with her hands.

"Hey, hey," he whispers, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and tucking her head under his chin. "I'm okay. You're okay. _We're _okay." Beckett circles her arms around his waist and hangs on so tightly to him that he can hardly breathe. He thinks he hears a sniffle, and he feels his heart do a little twist. He's never seen her quite so vulnerable and he could have _lost _her and—

She looks up at him, eyes red. And he doesn't even know how it starts, but suddenly they're kissing each other, hurried and desperate and reckless. His hands are tangling in her soft long hair and her hands are roaming all over his chest and his stomach and he knows it's going to be awkward between them later but right now all he cares about are her little gasps of breath and her tongue pressing against his own.

He briefly wonders if she ever did this sort of thing—or more—with Mike Royce. He decides it really doesn't matter, because she's _alive_ and unhurt and here with him _right now_.

(There is a shootout in an abandoned warehouse, but the only thing that happens afterward is a lot of paperwork. Castle decides that his kind of fantasy only happens in the movies and in his mystery novels.)

* * *

1.

They're working late on a case. Actually, Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito are working. Castle has nowhere better to be, because Alexis is at Paige's house again, so he's half building a tower of playing cards on the edge of Beckett's desk and half staring at Beckett.

She sighs in frustration and slams the folder down all of a sudden. The tower collapses all over the floor.

"Pembert's Property Protection. Helping you prepare for the unpredictable," Castle quips.

"Been watching infomercials again, Castle?"

"Yeah," he says. "This Pembert guy is awesome. I hear he even insured Johnny Vong's boat."

She rolls her eyes but smiles, then gestures to the folder. "I'm stuck and need a break. Coffee?"

She heads straight for the cappuccino machine, _his _cappuccino machine. When she passes the first mug to him, her fingers accidentally brush against his, sending a flash of tingles up his arm and into his chest. He closes his hand around hers, guiding it toward the countertop to set the cup down. He gently pries her fingers away from the handle, then takes her hand in his.

She glances up at him. "Castle..." she begins, trailing off. It's an unspoken question, he knows. A cross between _what are you doing _and _what are we to each other, anyway _and _what is this going to mean_?

He doesn't answer in words. Instead, he squeezes her hand and puts his other hand on her jaw, leaning in slowly to give her time to back away.

She doesn't.

He kisses her, cautiously, gently, slowly, trying to tell her what he can't quite put into words. Something like _you can trust me _and_ I really really like you _and _I want you to be my last_. By the way she's kissing him back, he thinks she understands what he's trying to say.

They finally pull apart, but only slightly, so that their lips are still touching. "You're my best friend," he whispers. "I'm hoping you'll be more than that, but we don't have to figure it out right away. We'll keep doing cases and going for coffee breaks and stopping at Remy's and playing cards and all that. I just want you to know the option's there—whenever you're ready." He takes a deep breath. "Deal?"

He doesn't see it, but he can feel her smile. "Deal."

And that is how Richard Castle and Kate Beckett share their first kiss.

(It isn't their last.)


End file.
